


Deadpool's Phantom of the Opera

by Fluffy_the_Dragon



Series: Deadpool's Movies [1]
Category: Deadpool (Comics), Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Phantom of the Opera - Lloyd Webber, Spiderman - Fandom, spidypool - Fandom
Genre: Explicit for that one scene, M/M, Phantom of the Opera - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-08
Updated: 2016-02-20
Packaged: 2018-05-18 23:05:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 14,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5946721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fluffy_the_Dragon/pseuds/Fluffy_the_Dragon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 2004 movie Phantom of the Opera with a slight twist. The twist being Peter is Christine and Deadpool is the Opera Ghost. Harry is the Vicomte. Gwen is Meg. So on and so forth.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. THE STAGE OF THE PARIS OPERA, 1905

The sound of a gavel hitting hard wood resonated around the Opera House. It boomed, the loudest noise in the building.  

"Sold. Your number, sir? Thank you," the Auctioneer said.   

The man, a porter, walked back to the front of the holding an item. "Lot 663, then, ladies and gentlemen: a poster for this house's production of "Hannibal" by Chalumeau. Porter showing here." No one talked as those attending th auction observed the poster.  

"Do I have ten francs?" he called, "Five then. Five I am bid. Six, seven. Against you, sir, seven. Eight. Eight once. Selling twice. Sold, to Harry, Vicomte de Osbourne."   

The Vicomte had a steely masked expression on his face as he was handed the poster.

"Lot 664: a wooden pistol and three human skulls from the 1831 production of 'Robert le Diable' by Meyerbeer. Ten francs for this. Ten, thank you. Ten francs still. Fifteen, thank you, sir Fifteen I am bid. Going at fifteen. Your number, sir?"  

The porter handed the man his item.  

"665, ladies and gentlemen: a papier-mache musical box, in the shape of a barrel-organ." The Auctioneer talked fast, "Attached, the figure of a monkey in Persian robes playing the cymbals. This item, discovered in the vaults of the theatre, still in working order."     

The porter held it up, "Showing here," shouted the Auctioneer.

He wound up the music box and it started its sad song. The sound was haunting.

"May I start at twenty francs? Fifteen, then? Fifteen I am bid." Harry nodded. "Sold, for thirty francs to the Vicomte de Osbourne. Thank you, sir."     

The porter handed him the small box. He ran his hands over the sides lightly, gently, staring down at it.

Harry sang to himself;

_A collector's piece indeed, every detail exactly as he said._

_He often spoke of you, my friend._

_Your velvet lining, and your figurine of lead._

_Will you still play, when all the rest of us are dead?_     

The Auctioneer's voice broke into his song, "Lot 666, then: a chandelier in pieces. Some of you may recall the strange affair of the Phantom of the Opera: a mystery never fully explained. We are told ladies and gentlemen, that this is the very chandelier which figures in the famous disaster. Our workshops have restored it and fitted up parts of it with wiring for the new electric light, so that we may get a hint of what it may look like when re-assembled."

They all stared at the large, cloth covered mass.

"Perhaps," he paused for effect, "we may frighten away the ghost of so many years ago with a little illumination, gentlemen?"         


	2. ACT 1 SCENE 1 REHEARSALS FOR "HANNIBAL" BY CHALUMEAU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's a link to the music from this chapter, it's not all there, cause I have more of the dialogue from the movie, but anyways here: 
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgC&v=9QXhzWnJaZI&mode=NORMAL

Flash Thompson stood center stage, in full warrior princess costume for a final dress rehearsal, singing loudly with exaggerated arm movements, "This trophy from our saviors, from our saviors! From the enslaving force of Rome!"

The chorus around him joined in song, dancing farther back on the stage, their costumes glittering in the light, shades of pretty gold and deep red gleaming. 

"With feasting and dancing and song, tonight a celebration we bring. The victorious throng returns to bring salvation!" They sang.

A different section of the chorus, played the soldiers, "The trumpets of Carthage resound! Hear, Romans, now, and tremble! Hark to our steps on the ground! Hear the drums!"

"Hannibal comes!" They all shouted.

In all of the hustle and bustle on stage, one of the poor, lowly soldiers stepped on the hem of Flash's elaborate costume, causing him to trip slightly and stumble out of position. 

"You make my dress train too long!" Flash screamed at his seamstress, who was standing in front of the stage, breaking both song and character. 

Elizabeth Allen, dressed as Hannibal, began her piece, "Sad to return to find the land we love threatened once more by Roma's far-reaching grasp!"

The Maestro waved his arms frantically, calling off the song, "Gentlemen, Gentlemen! Rome! Rome! Not Roma!"

Just then, J. Johan Jameson, the current owner of the Opera, walked into the room, accompanied by two men. 

Jameson appeared to be giving a grand tour, "Rehearsals, as you can see, are underway for a new production of Chalemeau's 'Hannibal'." 

The Maestro had the grace to only look mildly upset, "Monsieur Jameson! I am rehearsing!"

Jameson ignored him openly, "Monsieur Maestro, Madame Watson, ladies and gentlemen, please. If I could have your attention. As you know, for some weeks, there have been rumors of my imminent retirement."

Whispers filled the air, talk of bets and quiet 'I knew it's surrounded.

"I can now tell you these are all true."

There was a rather obnoxious "I told you so!" from Flash.

"It is my pleasure to introduce you to the two gentlemen who now own the Opera Populaire: Monsieur Tony Stark and Monsieur Steve Rogers."

Polite applause went up around the stage, people halfheartedly putting their hands together for the two gentlemen.

Jameson continued, undisturbed by the lack of enthusiasm, "I'm sure you've read of their recent fortune amassed in the junk business."

Tony stiffened. "Scrap metal, actually," he corrected. 

Steve grimaced, "And we are deeply honored to introduce our new patron, the Vitcomte de Osbourne!"

The applause was louder when the young man stepped into the room, walking towards the gathering of people.

Slightly more to the back of the crowd, Peter Parker stood, eyes widening when he took in the appearance of the Vitcomte. 

"It's Harry!" he whispered to Gwen, his friend, "Before my uncle died, at the house by the sea... I guess you could say we were childhood sweethearts. He called me Puny Petey."

Gwen giggled slightly, "Peter, he's so handsome!"

Harry addressed everyone, "My parents and I are honored to support all the arts, especially the world-renowned Opera Populaire."

Jameson gestured to Flash, "May I introduce Signor Flash Thompson, our leading soprano for five seasons."

One of the soprano's groupies clapped and shouted "Brava! Brava!"

Elizabeth coughed from behind Flash, "Ahem!" 

Jameson nearly rolled his eyes, "Signora Elizabeth Allen!"

Harry nodded his head respectfully, "An honor, Signora. I believe I'm keeping you from your rehearsal. I will be here this evening to share your great triumph."

Then he turned to the Maestro, "My apologies, Monsieur."

"Thank you, Monsieur!" the Maestro sounded relieved, then turned to Elizabeth, "Once more, if you please, Signora?" 

"He love me. He love me. Love me, love me, love me..." Flash tittered to his 'friends'.

They all readily nodded in agreement. 

Madame Mary Jane Watson lead Tony and Steve to a different, less occupied corner of the stage, "We take particular pride in the excellence of our ballet, monsieur." she beamed. 

Tony smirked, "I see why."

Steve pointed, "Especially that little ginger angel!"

Madame Watson nodded, "My daughter, Gwen Stacy." 

Tony was looking at someone else, "And that exceptional beauty? No relation, I trust?"

"Peter Parker. Promising talent, Monsieur Stark, very promising."

Tony looked surprised, "Parker did you say? N-n-no relation to the famous Swedish violinist? Ben Parker?" 

Madam Watson nodded again, "His only nephew. Orphaned at three, he went to live and travel with his uncle. Unfortunately, he died shortly after Peter turned seven. That's when he came to live and train in the ballet dormitories."

"An orphan, you say?" exclaimed Tony. 

"I think of him as a son, also. Gentlemen, if you would kindly stand to one side..."

As they continued to watch the dancing, Flash started singing louder and louder, attempting to get their attention. 

"Hannibal~!"

As soon as the number was over, Flash burst out, "All they want is dancing!"

Jameson was quick to reassure him, "The Vitcomte seemed excited for tonight's gala!"

"I hope he as excited by dancing girls as your new managers, because I WILL NOT BE SINGING!" Flash replied snootily, ending in a yell, "No, es finito. Get my doggy, bring my doggy! Bye-bye! Bye-bye, dancing girls!"

Tony looked startled, "What do we do?"

"Grovel. Grovel, grovel!" Jameson said. 

"Right."

"Signora!" should Steve. 

"I'm going now! It is finished!" Flash grabbed his dog.

"You great beauty!" Steve tried. 

Tony joined in, "Principessa, Bella Diva!"

"Si, si!" Flash agreed, not making any move to stop. 

"God of song!" Steve gushed. 

Thinking fast, Tony asked, "Monsieur Maestro, isn't there a rather marvelous aria for Elissa in Act Three of 'Hannibal'?"

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, ma no! Because I have not my costume for Act 3 because somebody not finish it! And... I 'ATE MY HAT!" Flash's tantrum grew louder. 

"Perhaps the signora could consider it a personal favor to oblige us with a private rendition? Unless, of course, Monsieur objects." suggested Jameson. 

The Maestro spluttered nervously. 

Flash calmed considerably, "If my managers command. Monsieur?" 

"If my Diva commands."

"Yes, I do," he replied, smugly. "Everybody very quiet!"

Tony whispered to Jameson, "Excuse me, sir, why exactly are you retiring?"

"My health."

"PSH! You as well!" Flash said. 

The piano started and Flash took a big breath. The crowd all collectively wince as he started. 

"Think of me, think of me fondly when we’ve said goodbye. Remember me once in a while, please promise me you’ll try."

The maids cleaning out the chairs, getting ready for that night's gala plugged cotton into their ears, peacefully drowning out the sound. 

"Then you'll find that once again you long to take your heart ba-"

Just then, one of the backdrops fell from the ceiling. Someone screamed as it fell onto Flash, trapping him below it. 

A shadowy figure moved across the rafters. 

A letter flutters to the ground. 

Madame Watson picked it up. 

"He's here!" Gwen shouted to Peter, "The Phantom of the Opera!"

Jameson reached for Flash, "Signor, are you alright? Miles! For God’s sake man, what’s going on up there?!"

Miles leaned over the railing, "Please, monsieur, don’t look at me! As God’s my judge, I wasn’t at my post. Please, monsieur, there's no one there! Or if there is... Well, then, it must be a ghost!" he laughed. 

Tony sighed, "Signor, these things do happen."

Flash seethed, "For the past three years, these things do happen!"

He turned to Jameson, "And did you stop them from happening? No!" 

Then to Tony and Steve, "And you two - you're as bad as him! 'These things do happen'? Ma! Until you stop these things from happening, this thing-"

He gestured to his chest, "does not happen! Elizabeth! Bring my doggy and my boxy!"

Flash stormed out with her maid, seamstress, and hairdresser following closely behind. 

Elizabeth turned up her nose, "Amateurs!" she sniffed. 

She strutted after Flash.

"Bye-bye and ciao! Now you see. Bye-bye, I'm really leaving!" Flash called as he really left. 

Jameson shook his head, "Gentlemen, good luck. If you need me, I shall be in Australia."

He walked out.

Tony threw a hopeless look at the Maestro, "Signor Flash, he will be coming back, won't he?

The man just shrugged.

Madame Mary Jane Watson waved the note she had picked up, "You think so, monsieur? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost."


	3. ACT 1 SCENE 2 I WILL THINK OF YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madame Mary Jane Watson waved the note she had picked up, "You think so, monsieur? I have a message, sir, from the Opera Ghost."
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgD&v=pJ_3Kfx4q-I&mode=NORMAL

Steve threw his hands up in defeat, "Oh, God in Heaven, you're all obsessed!"

Ignoring him, Madame Watson began to read, "He welcomes you to his opera house..."

"HIS opera house?" Steve exclaimed. 

"...and commands that you continue to leave box 5 empty for his use. And reminds you that his salary is due."

When the note was finished, she handed it to Tony. 

"His salary?" Steve asked. 

Madame Watson shrugged, "Well, Monsieur Jameson used to give him 20,000 francs a month."

Steve ripped the letter out of Tony's hands, "20,000 francs!?"

Madame Watson raised an eyebrow, "Perhaps you can afford more? With the Vicomte as your patron?"

"Madame, I had hoped to make that announcement public tonight when the Vicomte was to join us for the gala. But obviously we shall now have to cancel, as it appears we have lost our star! A full house, Tony. We shall have to refund a full house!" Steve said. 

"Peter Parker could sing it, sir." Madame said simply. 

Tony scoffed, "What, a chorus boy? Don't be silly."

"He has been taking lessons from a great teacher."

"Who?" Tony asked. 

"I don't know his name, Monsieur." Peter replied honestly.

"Let him sing for you, monsieur; he has been well taught." 

Tony sighed, "All right. Come on." 

Peter hesitated a moment too long for Mary Jane's liking, she pulled him up front and center stage. 

"From the beginning of the aria, then. Please, Signor." said the Maestro, holding up his wand. 

"Tony, this is doing nothing for my nerves," muttered Steve.

"Oh, but he's very pretty." Tony replied. 

"Think of me, think of me fondly..." Peter started out rather soft, yet grew in courage as he went on, sounding more and more beautiful. "When we’ve said goodbye, Remember me, once in a while please promise me you’ll try..."

Monsieur Stark and Rogers gawked at the sight, his voice was earth shattering and hauntingly high for a boy. 

"Then you'll find, that once again you long to take your heart back and be free. If you ever find a moment, spare a thought for me." 

Peter slowly smiled.

____________

Peter Parker stood center stage, dress white and gorgeous, pounds of silk going down from his hips to his ankles. There was a spilt in the middle of the skirt, where you could see his black trousers peaking threw. He had turned his head in protest at a tight corset for the top of the dress and instead wore a loose, white blouse with puffy long sleeves and a V-cut opening at the top. 

"We never said our love was evergreen or as unchanging as the sea, but if you can still remember stop and think of me."

Someone had woven tiny white flowers into his curly brown locks, making a vague crown shape. 

"Think of all the things we've shared and seen, Don’t think about the way things might have been. Think of me, think of me waking, silent and resigned."

Up in box five, sat a proud figure, smiling at his brilliant student. 

"Imagine me, trying too hard to put you from my mind. Recall those days, look back on all those times, think of the things we'll never do - there will never be a day when I won't think of you." 

As Peter's last note faded out, the crowd stood, clapping their hands loudly. 

Harry had grown more and more suspicious throughout the awe inspiring performance. 

'Can it be... can it be Peter?' He thought to himself. 

"Bravo!" Harry shouted. 

Matching the tune Peter had just dropped, he started, "Long ago, it seems so long ago. How young and innocent we were! He may not remember me, but I remember him."

After a long dramatic pause, Peter sang out, louder than ever, "Flowers fade, the fruits of summer fade; they have their season, so do we, But please promise me that sometimes, you will think...ah ha ha ha...ah ha hA HA... AH HA HA HA...of me!"

The crowd roared. 

________________

There's a small room, in the back of the opera house, with no windows and no torches to hold light. 

Peter had stumbled upon years ago and dubbed it the perfect place to light a candle for his Uncle Ben. 

As soon as he could slip away, Peter made his way there. He sat down, lit the candle and stared into it, still glowing in the praise strangers had thrown at him.

A low voice boomed from behind him. 

"Brava, Brava, Bravissima."


	4. ACT 1 SCENE 3 PUNY PETEY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/?reload=7&rdm=1w27hs4b6#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgE&v=yRiF6161qK0&mode=NORMAL
> 
> [...] and {...} are Wade's boxes.
> 
> ____________
> 
> "Brava, Brava, Bravissima."

Peter beamed.

Gwen's carried around the doorframe, "Peter, Peter?"

"Peter..."

A deep voice murmured from the shadows.

Gwen entered the room, a fond smile lighting up her as she saw Peter, "Where in the world have you been hiding? Really, you were perfect. I only wish I knew your secret. Who is your great tutor?"

"Gwen, when your mother brought me here to live, whenever I'd come down here alone to light a candle for my uncle, a voice... from up above, and in my dreams, he was always there." Peter spoke softly. 

"Peter, do you believe? Really? Do you think the spirit of your uncle's coaching you?" Gwen sounded slightly patronizing. 

"Who else, Gwen? Who?" Peter asked, more to himself than to her.

"Uncle once spoke of an angel, I used to dream he'd appear," Peter started his song. "Now as I sing I can sense him, and I know he’s here. Here in this room he calls me softly, somewhere inside, hiding."

He shivered, thinking about the sensation of being watched. "Somehow I know he’s always with me, he, the unseen genius."

Gwen put a hand on his arm, "Peter, you must have been dreaming. Stories like this can’t some true. Peter, you’re talking in riddles, and it’s not like you."

Peter paid her no mind, "Angel of music, Guide and Guardian, grant to me your glory." 

"Who is this angel, this-" Gwen started.

Peter joined her in song, "Angel of Music, hide no longer, secret and strange angel."

"He’s with me even now..." Peter trailed off. 

"Your hands are cold." Gwen said in concern. 

"All around me..."

"Your face, Peter, it’s white."

"It frightens me."

Gwen rubbed a circle on his palm, trying to reassure her friend, "Don’t be frightened."

"Oh Gwen, I do wish to see my Angel at least once," Peter sighed. "I bet he's the most handsome man in the world!" 

"Even more handsome than Harry?"

"Gwen!"

Laughing, she lead Peter back to his dressing room, where tons of people had sent him flowers.  
__________

"Ah, Vicomte! I think we’ve made quite a discovery with Monsieur Parker!" Steve told the impatient man.

"Perhaps we could present him to you, dear Vicomte." Tony offered. 

"Gentlemen, if you wouldn’t mind, this is one visit I should prefer to make unaccompanied." Harry turned them down.

Looking around, he spotted the bundle of flowers Steve was holding and grabbed it out of his hands. 

"Thank you."

Steve watched him go, "It would appear they’d met before."

"Yes." said Tony.  
____________

"Puny Petey let his mind wander. Puny Petey thought, 'Am I fonder of dolls, or of goblins, or shoes...?"

Peter looked up, "Harry!" he exclaimed. 

Harry laughed, "Or of riddles or of frocks."

Peter smiled, "Those picnics in the attic..."

"Or of chocolates?"

"Uncle playing the violin..."

Harry chimed in, "As we read to each other dark stories of the North?"

"‘But what I love best', Petey said, ‘is when I’m asleep in my bed, and the Angel of Music sings songs in my head.'"

They both sang, "The Angel of Music sings songs in my head..."

"You sang like an angel tonight." Harry said, handing Peter the flowers. 

"Uncle said, ‘when I’m in heaven, child, I will send the angel of music to you.' Well, Uncle is dead, Harry, and I have been visited by the Angel of Music." 

"Oh, no doubt of it! And now, we go to supper." Harry said rather condescending.

Peter's eyes got wide as he was filled with alarm. "No Harry! The Angel of Music is very strict."

"Well I shan’t keep you up late." He laughed.

"Harry, no wait!" 

Harry began walking towards the door, "You must change! I’ll order my carriage. Two minutes, Puny Petey."

"No, Harry!" 

He shut the door behind him. 

A gloved hand appeared from the shadows. 

It held a golden key.

A key which locked Peter's door. 

Madame Watson watched from a nearby doorway, expressionless. 

Peter pulled off his skirt, leaving him only his very open undershirt and thin trousers. He sighed, heading towards the door, thinking to throw it open and tell Harry no. 

A voice boomed, "Insolent boy!"  
___________________

The Phantom was seething. 

All of the stupid new fans of his lov... of Peter had finally left. The crowd dying down. 

Just as he was about to enter the room.

[That swine had to appear.]

He had been thinking of congratulating Peter tonight, maybe even teaching him some more music. 

{Some more of my music!}

[Our music]

The Phantom stood behind his mirror door, listening intently, wondering how fast Peter would send away this... This...

[Swine?] 

{We've already called him that!}

Said swine seemed to recognize his student and worst of all, Peter seemed to recognize him too. 

"Harry!" Peter's smile warmed The Ghost's heart. 

[He should be smiling at us.]

"...and now, we go to supper!" 

{Wow, that voice hurts my ears.}

[Wait! Did he say supper?]

{Is he attempting to court our Peter?}

The Phantom growled. 

[For everyone's sake, we better hope not.]


	5. ACT 1, SCENE 4 INTRODUCING THE PHANTOM AND THE MUSIC OF THE NIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgF&v=r7hYln0mXVo&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgG&v=3UrF1U5JJSI&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgH&v=04ak7VZynG4&mode=NORMAL  
> __________
> 
> "Insolent boy!" A voice boomed.

"This slave of fashion, basking in your glory! Ignorant fool! This brave young suitor, sharing in my triumph!" the voice's disembodied song echoed around the room.

Peter was startled to a stop, he bowed his head. "Angel I hear you, speak, I listen. Stay by my side, guide me. Angel, my soul was weak — forgive me. Enter at last, Master."

"Flattering boy, you shall know me. See why in shadow I hide. Look at your face in the mirror… I am there inside!"

Peter looked at his reflection in the mirror, horror and curiosity spread through him. His Angel was there! Staring back at him from seemingly inside the mirror.

He had on a mask, one that you'd see at a Masquerade Ball. 

It covered the top half of his face.

It looked like it had been carved from stone.

Peter started towards the mirror, "Angel of Music, guide and guardian, grant to me your glory. Angel of Music, hide no longer. Come to me, strange angel."

The man in the mirror beckoned with his hand, "I am your Angel of Music...come to the Angel of Music..."

Outside the room, Harry approached the door and heard voices. He rattled the doorknob, finding it locked. 

"Whose is that voice? Who is that in there!?" Harry shouted.

Peter was in a trace, moving towards the mirror, not even hearing Harry. 

"I am your Angel of Music."

Harry started to pound on the door, "Peter! Peter!"

_...Come to the Angel of Music..._

The mirror opens and the Angel takes Peter's hand, leading him inside. 

"In sleep, he sang to me. In dreams, he came. That voice which calls to me and speaks my name. And do I dream again?"

They walked through a beautifully high arched corridor, light with torches. The flames dancing to the tune of Peter's song.

"For now I find the Phantom of the Opera is there, inside my mind."

The Opera Ghost lead him through tunnel after tunnel, navigating the labyrinth in a way that Peter himself could never. 

"Sing once again with me our strange duet," the Angel sang, "My power over you grows stronger yet. And though you turn from me to glance behind, The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind."

They entered a large room, a black horse waiting for them. The Phantom lifted Peter up onto it, taking a hold of the reins. 

They kept moving. 

Moving down.

Down to his dungeons. 

"Those who have seen your face draw back in fear. I am the mask you wear..." Peter sang.

The Phantom shook his head, "It's me they hear..."

"Your spirit and your voice in one combined," he continued. 

"My spirit and my voice in one combined," Peter sang in his trancelike state. 

"The Phantom of the Opera is there, inside your mind."

"...inside my mind."

_The Phantom of the Opera..._

Peter was helped off the horse as they approached an underground lake with a small gondola. 

"He's there, the Phantom of the Opera," Peter ended his line with a high note.

"Sing, my Angel..." the Opera Ghost beckoned. 

Peter held his note, getting higher and higher, louder and louder. 

"Sing my Angel of Music, sing for me... sing... sing my Angel! Sing for me!"

The Phantom got out of the boat and turned to Peter.

"I have brought you, to the seat of sweet music’s throne, to this kingdom where all must pay homage to music. Music..." he sang, excitedly, gesturing to his dungeon. 

"You have come here for one purpose and one alone. Since the moment I first heard you sing, I have needed you with me..."

He walked back over to Peter, "...to serve me, to sing for my music."

The Phantom drug a hand down Peter's cheek, "My music... Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation, darkness stirs and wakes imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses. Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor."

He grabbed Peter's hand and lead him from the boat, his thumb trailing circles across his palm. 

"Grasp it, sense it - tremulous and tender."

The Phantom gently pulled Peter to him,"Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light - and listen to the music of the night! Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams."

The Opera Ghost's arms wrapped around Peter's waist, his chest hitting Peter's back, "Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before. Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar, and you’ll live as you never lived before."

One of his hands moved up Peter's front, tracing a line on his collarbone, up his neck, and to his jaw.

"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you. Hear it, feel it secretly possess you."

The Phantom turned Peter's head to the side, leaning around him and brushing his lips against the corner of his mouth.

"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind in this darkness that you know you cannot fight - the darkness of the music of the night."

The Phantom grew bolder, claiming Peter's lips in a rather harsh kiss, his mask cold against Peter's face.

"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the life you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be!"

He moved his other hand lower, brushing lightly against Peter, all the down to carcass his thigh.

"Only then can you belong to me...."

Peter moaned slightly, pushing against the his Angel.

_Only then can you belong to me..._

The Phantom turned Peter around in his arms, then cupped his sex. Peter, suddenly weak in the knees, slumped forwards, putting his own arms around the Opera Ghost's shoulders. Peter moaned as the Phantom began to rub him through his thin pants.

"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication. Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation."

He moved his hand to the hem of Peter's trousers, slipping his hand underneath it. Peter gasped, pushing his hips into the loose grip silently begging him to move his hand. The Phantom happily obliged.

"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in to the power of the music that I write, The power of the Music of the Night."

Peter shuddered, a weird sensation building in him. It was foreign, but not unpleasant. Suddenly, the feeling grew and burned. He moaned, coming into the Phantom's hand.

Peter's arms that had been tightly gripped together behind his neck loosened and Peter rested his head on the Phantom's shoulder, eyes falling shut, breathing heavily.

Opera Ghost slipped one arm under Peter's knees and one around his back, picking him up as carefully as possible.

He gently set his precious burden on the silk covered bed, "You alone can make my song take flight."

"Help me make the music of the night..."

Peter lay, panting. His eyes glazed over, staring into the soul of the Phantom, a small smile on his lips.

[Wow, he's beautiful.]

{I wanna touch him.}

[Then don't just stand there, do something!]

The Phantom grinned, climbing onto the bed himself. He maneuvered himself on top of Peter, pinning the flushed boy to the bed. He trailed kisses down Peter's neck, causing him squirm and make cute little noises.

He pulled a rope and a silk covering fell around the bed. 


	6. ACT 1 SCENE 5 YOU LITTLE PRYING PANDORA

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgI&v=kfaX_QiwIS4&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/?#/watch?v=0Fg6HpAB0xM
> 
> ___________________
> 
> "Help me make the music of the night..."

Miles bellowed, "Yah!"

All of the ladies in the dressing room screamed in delight.

"Yah! YAH!"

He began his 'scary' story, "Like rough sandpaper is his skin! Covered in great long scars that run all about him. You must be always on your guard, or he will catch you with his magical...lasso!"

Miles dangled a hangman's noose, roping in the girl closest to him.

The girl giggled, "Oh my..."

Madame Watson walked into the room and yanked the girl away; staring coldly at Miles.

"Those who speak of what they know find too late that prudent silence is wise. Miles Warren, hold your tongue-.

She outright slapped him. Everyone gasped.

"Keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

She jerked her hand up in example.  
________________

The was music.

Soft, and gentle.

It woke Peter, who groaned and rolled over, pulling at the covers around him.

Covers that...weren't his.

What? he sat up quickly, taking in his surroundings.

Peter rubbed at his eyes, trying to think back to the night before, "I remember there was mist, swirling mist upon a vast glassy lake. There were candles all around, and on the lake there was a boat. And in the boat, there was a man."

_A man?_

_Yes, my Angel!_ Peter thought.

_Or..._

_Was he the Phantom?_

Peter paused, turning to look over at an organ.

Where his wonderful mystery man sat.

Peter swung his legs over the side of the bed, moving the shear curtain out of the way. The second he took a stood up, a sharp pain shot through him.

Then, Peter remembered everything of the night before.

"Who was that shape in the shadows? Whose is that face in the mask? Who was the one to make love to me?" Peter wondered aloud, a slight blush on his face as he walks.

Without thinking, Peter reached up and touched the Opera Ghost's face, trailing his hand down a bit, then pulled off mask.

The Phantom jerked away, covering his face.

"Damn you! You little prying Pandora! You little demon! Is this what you wanted to see? Curse you, you little lying Delilah!" he said, outraged.

He turned on him, "You little viper! Now you cannot ever be free! Damn you! Curse you!"

He stood up and moved away from Peter. Then, he took a shuddering breath, shoulders slumping.

The Phantom turned back, voice holding all of the loneliness in the world, "Stranger than you dreamt it. Can you even bear to look, or bear to think of me? This lonesome gargoyle who burns in hell! I shouldn't have touched you. I didn't have the right."

He began to walk back to Peter, who stood shock still, stricken by what he had done.

"But secretly yearns for heaven, secretly, secretly, but Peter... Fear can turn to love, you'll learn to see, to find the man behind the monster this..."

_Fear? What? No, no, no!_ Peter thought, _You're not a monster! You're just..._

"I'm not afr-"

"This repulsive carcass who seems a beast but secretly dreams of beauty, secretly, secretly..."

He sunk down on the steps right below Peter then whispered brokenly, "Oh, Peter."

Numbly, Peter handed him the mask, heart full of regret for what he had just done.

"I-" he started, about to tell the Ghost that he wasn't disgusted by him at all.

Not even close to afraid.

The Phantom stood, face one again covered, mood suddenly stoic and distant.

Peter shivered. _This man..._

"Come. We must return. Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you."

 


	7. ACT 1 SCENE 6 ITS ALL A PLOY TO HELP PETER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=DQaqBrhDZ8I
> 
> ____________
> 
>  
> 
> "Come. We must return. Those two fools who run my theater will be missing you."

Steve Rogers entered the Opera House the next morning, clutching a newspaper and a note.

"Mystery!" he read the headline out loud, "After Gala night, it says mystery, of soprano’s flight. Mystified, all the papers say, we are mystified, we suspect foul play."

He walked towards the grand entrance stairs, "Bad news on soprano scene – First Flash, now Peter! Still, at least the seats get sold: Gossip’s worth its weight in gold!" Steve shook his head, "What a way to run a business. Spare me these unending trials. Half your cast disappears, but the crowd still cheers. Opera! To hell with Gluck and Handel, have a scandal and you're sure to have a hit!"

Tony bursted into the Opera, "Damnable! Will they all walk out? This is damnable!"

Steve raised his hands, "Tony, please don't shout... It's publicity! And the take is vast! Free publicity!"

"But we have no cast!"

"Tony, have you seen the queue?" Steve spotted the letter in Tony's hands, "Oh, it seems you've got one too."

Tony opened the note and began to read it to Steve.

**Dear Tony, what a charming gala, Peter was in a word sublime. We were hardly bereft when Flashy left; on that note, the diva's a disaster, must you cast him when he's seasons past his prime?**

Steve read his as well.

**Dear Steve, just a brief reminder. My salary has not been paid. Send it care of the Ghost by return of post, P.T.O! No one likes a debtor so it's better if my orders are obeyed!**

"Who would have the gall to send this?" Tony wondered angrily.

"Someone with a puerile brain." Steve replied. "These are both signed O.G."

"Who the hell is he?" Tony asked.

They looked at each other, "Opera Ghost!" they concluded.

"It's nothing short of shocking!" Steve declared.

"He's mocking our position!"

"In addition, he wants money."

"What a funny apparition to expect a large retainer, nothing plainer, he is clearly quiet insane!" Tony said.

Harry flung open the doors, "Where is he?!"

Steve blinked, "You mean Flash?"

"I mean Mr. Parker, where is he?"

"Well, how should we know?" Tony scoffed.

"I want an answer! I take it that you sent me this note."

"What’s all this nonsense?" Tony said, while Steve shouted, "Of course not!"

"Don’t look at us!"

"He’s not with you, then?" Harry asked.

"Of course not!" Steve said once again.

"We’re in the dark!"

"Monsieur, don’t argue. Isn’t this the letter you wrote?"

"And what is it we are meant to have wrote?" Steve coughed, "Written."

Harry handed the note to Tony who promptly read it.

"Do not fear for Mr. Parker. The Angel of Music has him under his wing. Make no attempt to see him again."

"If you didn’t write it, who did?" Harry demanded.

Flash threw open the doors of the Opera Populaire, "Where is he?"

"Ah, welcome back!"

"Your precious patron, where is he?" Flash demanded, ignoring Tony.

Harry huffed, "What is it now?"

"I have your letter - a letter which I rather resent," Flash waved around said offensive letter.,

"And did you send it?" Steve asked.

"Of course not!"

"As if he would!" Tony added.

Flash looked suspicious, "You didn’t send it?"

"Of course not!"

"What’s going on?" Tony threw his hands up.

"You dare to tell me that this is not the letter you sent?" Flash's eyes had an angry glint to them.

Harry sighed, "And what is it that I’m meant to have sent?"

Flash held out the letter and Harry snatched it from him.

"Your days at the Opera Populaire are numbered. Peter Parker will be singing on your behalf tonight."

Flash hissed, "Peter Parker!"

Harry continued, ignoring the outraged soprano, "Be prepared for a great misfortune should you attempt to take his place."

Steve and Tony both shared a look, turning bad to talk to the fuming Prima Donna, "Far too many notes for my taste, and most of them about Peter, all we’ve heard since we’ve came is Peter's name."

Madame Watson walked quietly threw the open doors, "Mr. Parker has returned."

"I hope no worse for wear so far as we’re concerned?" Steve said.

"Where precisely is he now?" Tony asked.

Madame Watson said, "I thought it best he was alone."

Gwen piped in, "He needed rest."

Harry looked hopeful, "May I see him?"

"No, Monsieur, he will see no one."

"Will he sing, will he sing?" Flash demanded.

"Here, I have a note." Madame Watson held it out.

"Let me see it!" Harry, Steve, Flash, and Tony all yelled at once.

Steve added a "...Please."

"Gentlemen," he read, "I have now sent you several notes of the most amiable nature, detailing how my theater is to be run! You have not followed my instructions..."

_________hours earlier____________

The Phantom sat in his dungeon, Peter still sleeping in the bed near him.

"... I shall give you one last chance," he spoke as he wrote, "Peter Parker has returned to you, and I am anxious his career should progress. In the new production of "Il Muto", you will therefore cast Flash... as the Pageboy, and put Mr. Parker in the role of Countess. The role which Mr. Parker plays calls for charm and appeal. The role of the Pageboy is silent, which makes my casting in a word, ideal."

He chuckled to himself.

[Ideal indeed.]

"I shall watch the performance from my normal seat in Box Five, which will be kept empty for me. Should these commands be ignored, a disaster beyond your imaginations will occur. I remain, gentlemen, you obedient servant. O. G."

{Hogwash, you are about as obedient as the white box!}

[True.]

_____________________

"Peter!"

"It’s all a ploy to help Peter!" Flash said nastily.

"This is all insane!" Steve decided.

"I know who sent this - The Vicomte - her lover!" Flash pointed at Harry.

"Indeed! Can you believe this?" Harry said sarcastically.

"Signor!" Steve pleaded.

"The Vicomte!" Flash persisted.

"Signor!"

"You are our star!" Tony gushed.

"And always will be!"

"Signor!"

Steve proclaimed, "The man is mad!"

"We don’t take orders!" Tony said.

"Mr. Parker will be playing the pageboy! The silent role." Steve reassured him.

"Flash will be playing the lead!"

 


	8. ACT 2, SCENE 7 CAN YOU BOW OUT WHEN THEY'RE SHOUTING YOUR NAME

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgL&v=RJ4GomOTGeE&mode=NORMAL  
> ___________
> 
> "Flash will be playing the lead!"

Flash straightened his back and stuck his nose into the air, "It's useless trying to appease me!"

"Appease him!" Elizabeth challenged.

"You're only saying this to please me!" Flash then accused.

"To please him!" Dear Liz kept piping up from behind her husband.

They began to shout at the two new managers of the Opera Populaire in Latin.

"To scorn his word, beware to those," Madame Watson warned to deaf ears, "The Angel sees, the Angel knows."

_The Angel sees, the Angel knows._

"Signor, pardon us!" Tony pleaded.

"You have replaced me!" Flash cried.

"Please, Signor, we beseech you!" Steve begged.

"I must see him," Harry muttered, no longer caring about any of the others in the room.

Flash started screaming in Latin once again, turning around and marching towards the doors.

Steve began to look rather worried, "Signora, sing for us!"

"Don't be a martyr! What new surprises are in store?" Tony questioned, chasing after Flash.

All of Flash's cronies scrambled to open the Opera's doors, where a crowd of people stood, waiting loudly. They all rushed forwards when they saw the company stepping outside.

One man in the front held out a rose, "Could you please give this to Mr. Parker?"

Flash scoffed in disgust, signaling for the doors to be once again closed.

"Mr. Parker?"

"Your public needs you!" Tony continued, ignoring the display of the crowd's affection towards Peter, not Flash.

"We need you, too!" added Steve.

"Would you not rather have your precious little ingénue?" Flash asked.

"Signor, no! The world wants you!" Tony assured.

"Prima donna, first lady of the stage! Your devotees are on their knees to implore you!" Steve gestured to all of the people standing around.

"Can you bow out when they're shouting your name?"

"Think of how they all adore you!"

"Prima Donna, enchant us once again!" Tony and Steve hooked their arms around Flash's, standing on either side of him.

"Think of your muse..." Tony gushed.

"And of the queues 'round the theatre!"

"Can you deny us the triumph in store? Sing, Prima Donna, once more!"

Flash finally nodded, appeased by the constant flattering.  
_______________

"Why won't they just listen to him?" Peter groaned, flopping backwards onto his bed.

Gwen had entered his room to tell him about the current situation.

"Listen to the Opera Ghost? Isn't he the one making the outrageous demands?" she asked lightly, sitting next to her friend.

"Outrageous?" Peter huffed, "He's only asking for his due salary! One that can be easily payed, might I add. And for the performances to be good! You know as well as I do that Flash is...not as good as he used to be."

Gwen raised an eyebrow, "Are you saying that you're better than the leading Soprano? That _you_ should become the new one?"

Peter quickly shook his head, "That's not what I meant! I'm not agreeing with me being the lead at all! In fact, I'm quite comfortable in the back. Just dancing."

"Oh Peter, I know, I'm only teasing," Gwen rubbed his back soothingly.

He sighed, "I just hope my Angel doesn't do anything stupid tonight."

Peter rolled onto his side, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"My Angel sees, my Angel knows," he whispered, burying his face into the pillow.

He could almost remember the man's scent and warmth next to him.

_______________

Tony nodded from the box he was sitting in to Harry, who nodded back, taking his own seat.

Harry was sitting in box five.

_____________

"They say that this youth has set my lord's heart aflame!" a woman whispered to the person standing next to her.

"Her ladyship sure would die of shock!" another returned.

"Her ladyship is a laughingstock!" the third man onstage agreed.

"Should she suspect him, God protect him..." the women shook her head.

"...shame, shame, shame! This faithless lord's bound for Hades... shame, shame, shame!" they all sang.

Flash, dressed in his flamboyant Count costume sang out, "Serafimo, your disguise is perfect!"

He waved a hand at Peter, who was wearing a maid outfit, disguised as a girl.

There was a knock on the stages nonexistent door, "Why, who can this be?" Flash asked.

"Gentle husband, admit your loving wife!" Liz cried from offstage.

She walked on, reaching over and groping Gwen's bottom.

Gwen squeaked, moving away and the audience laughed.  
__________

Tony whispered to Steve, .See, that is exactly the sort of thing the public loves!"  
__________

"My love, I’m called to England on affairs of state, and must leave you with your new maid!" Elizabeth said, then addressed the crowd, "Though I would happily take the maid with me!"

The crowd of people filling up the entire Opera House laughed.

"The old fool is leaving!" Flash pressed a hand to his mouth and whispered to the audience.  
__________

In the crowd, Tony pointed, "That's the Countess de Charbourg! She's invited us to her Salon, you know..

Steve muttered happily, "Nothing like that ever happened to us in the junk business."

"Scrap metal." Tony corrected.  
_____________

"Serafimo, away with this pretense!" Flash ordered.

Peter, playing Serafimo, threw off his elaborate maid disguise.

"You cannot speak." Flash warned, "but kiss me in my wife's absence. Poor fool, she makes laugh! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Ha Ha!"

They sang together, "Old fool, she doesn’t know, ho ho ho ho ho! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Ha Ha!"

That dark, disembodied voice boomed around the theater, "Did I NOT instruct... that Box Five was to be kept empty?"

 


	9. ACT 2, SCENE 8 A NOOSE HANGING CENTER STAGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgM&v=5RBv6s3ezoE&mode=NORMAL  
> My tumblr is Lupei: http://lupei.tumblr.com/
> 
> If you wanna ask me any questions or something, ill probably cry in happiness then call my friend and we'll debate how I should answer for like five hours.  
> _______________
> 
> "Did I NOT instruct... that Box Five was to be kept empty?"

There was a collective gasp.

Gwen shrieked, "He's here! The Phantom of the Opera!"

Peter's heart gave an unexpected bump. "It’s him..." he whispered faintly, unexplained happiness bloomed in his chest.

Flash heard him and snapped, "Your part is silent, little toad!"

Realizing his mistake, Flash then grinned awkwardly at the crowd.  
_____________

From his post, the Opera Ghost said softly, "A toad, Monsieur? Perhaps it is you who are the toad..."

Miles Warren began to look around the rafters, searching for the source of the voice.  
___________

Flash took a deep breath, and continued.

_After all, the show must go on!_

"Serafimo, away with this pretence! You cannot speak, but kiss me in my –"

He ended his line with a most undignified croak.

The audience gasped, then laughed.

Flash began to twitch slightly in irritation, "Poor fool, he makes laugh! Ha Ha Ha Ha Ha! Ha Ha-"

He croaked loudly.

The audience continued to laugh as Flash shrieked.

The curtain closed.

Steve stepped in front of the curtain, announcing, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize. Uh, the uh, performance, will... continue in ten minutes time, when the role of the..."

He sighed, "Count will be played by Peter Parker!"

The audience applauded.

Tony's voice was strained, "Meanwhile, we’d like to give you the ballet from Act Three of tonight’s Opera!"

The Maestro gasped, "What??"

"Maestro, th-th-the ballet, bring it forward, please. The ballet! Now, please!"

"Thank you!" Steve said, closing the curtain.

The audience applauded again and cheered.

Ballet dancers in puffy white tutus ran on stage, moving things around and bumping into each other as the curtains opened again.

Some tried to pull sheep onstage while swings were lowered from the ceiling.

They began the performance, twirling in chaos while the audience laughed.  
____________

Miles had just turned a corner in his pursuit when he came face to face with the Phantom.

Miles groaned, "Uhha!"

He stumbled back, attempting to run away. The Phantom hunted after him, pinned him against the planks of a nearby rope ladder.

He looped a noose around Miles Warren's neck.

The Phantom tightened it, strangling the man, grinning wildly beneath his mask.

This mask was black and covered his entire face.

He pushed Warren off the rafter, the rope pulling taunt.

The dead man dangled center stage.

The audience screamed.  
________________

The second the Phantom's voice was heard, Harry took off, sprinting towards where Peter would soon be; backstage.

"Are you alright?"

"Harry, you’re not safe here." Peter grabbed his hand, "Oh why? Why did you have to anger him? Blast it! He just wanted to see me preform from his box!"

He pulled a shocked Harry away from the stage.

"Ladies and Gentleman, please remain in your seats! Do not panic! It’s simply an accident! AN ACCIDENT!" Steve could be heard yelling from where they were.

"Why have you brought me here?" Harry asked, looking around.

"We can't go back there..." Peter didn't quit walking.

"We must return." Harry tried to wretch his hand out of Peter's surprisingly firm grip.

"He'll kill you! His eyes will find us there..."

"Peter, don't say that..."

"Those eyes that burn. I think I love him." Peter ended his thought in a whisper.

"Don't even think it," Harry said softly.

"And if he has to kill a thousand men..."

"Forget this waking nightmare!" Harry implored.

"The Phantom of the Opera will kill and kill again!" Peter's eyes were wide.

"There is no Phantom of the Opera," Harry said. "My God, who is this man...?"

"Who hunts to kill?" _Who's stolen my heart?_

"...this mask of death?" They had reached a staircase, Peter started to move faster, yanking Harry along.

"I can't escape from him... I don't know if I want to."

"Whose voice you hear?" Harry continued.

Peter wasn't even really listening to Harry, "I never will."

"With every breath."

They both spoke at once, "And in this labyrinth, where night is blind. The Phantom of the Opera is-"

"There..." Harry trailed off.

Peter said, "Here... inside"

"Your mind-"

"My mind," Peter silently added, _my heart._

He pushed open a door and both of them walked onto the roof of the Opera House, taking in the cold, night air.

Peter dropped Harry's hand.

"There is no Phantom of the Opera," Harry said, tone smooth, like he was talking to a child.

Peter turned away from him, "Harry, I've been there! To his world of unending night, to a world where the daylight dissolves into darkness... darkness..."

When he turned back, Harry could see tears in Peter's big eyes.

"Harry, I’ve seen him!" Peter shook, though it had nothing to do with the cold, "Can I ever forget that sight? Can I ever escape from that face? So scarred, deformed, it was hardly a face in that darkness... darkness..."

Peter turned away again, a look of wondering and a smile of fondness lighting up his face.

"But his voice filled my spirit with a strange, sweet sound. In that night there was music in my mind... And through music, my soul began to soar! And I heard as I'd never heard before."

"What you heard was a dream and nothing more," Harry spat.

_It wasn't a dream!_

"Yet in his eyes, all the sadness of the world. Those pleading eyes, that both threaten and adore... Harry, I'm in lov-"

Harry cut him off, "Peter, Peter..."

The Phantom, who sat behind a statue sang softly, almost to himself, "...Peter..."

Peter looked up, not sure if he heard anything.

_...Peter..._

 


	10. ACT 2, SCENE 9 ALL I ASK OF YOU

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgO&v=eDX_JotUtuc&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=Zy1lWiHHHFY  
> _____________
> 
> Sigh.  
> _____________
> 
> ...Peter...

Harry twirled Peter around, "No more talk of darkness, Forget these wide-eyed fears, I'm here, Nothing can harm you, My words will warm and calm you."

He hugged Peter to his chest, "Let me be your freedom, Let daylight dry your tears. I'm here, with you, beside you, to guard you and to guide you."

Peter sighed into his warmth, "Say that I'll be loved every waking moment. Turn my head with talk of summertime. Say I'll be needed with someone now and always. Promise me that all you say is true. That's all I ask of you."

Harry pressed his lips into Peter's soft brown curls, "Let me be your shelter, let me be your light, you’re safe, no one will find you, your fears are far behind you."

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and him always beside me, to hold me and to hide me," Peter sang, not really thinking of the man who currently held him.

"Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Let me lead you from your solitude. Say you need me with you here, beside you. Anywhere you go, let me go too. Peter, that's all I ask of you."

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime, say the word and I will follow you, share each day with me each night, each morning, say you love me," Peter's eyes were unfocused and far away.

"You know I do."

Peter blinked, confused.

They looked to each other, "Love me, that's all I ask of you."

Harry kissed Peter roughly.

Peter's arms fell limply to his sides in shock.

"Anywhere you go, let me go too. Love me, that's all I ask of you," Harry sang, cupping the back of Peter's head when he went to pull away.

He kissed him again.

Peter broke off the kiss, backing away from Harry, "I must go; they’ll wonder where I am. Come with me Harry."

"Peter, I love you..." Harry grabbed his hand.

Peter smiled, flattered by his friend, "Order your fine horses; be with them at the door."

"And soon, you’ll be beside me..."

"You’ll guard me and you’ll guide me."

They walked back through the door, the rose Peter had been given fell to the ground, forgotten.   
___________

A black leather gloved hand gently lifted up the unloved flower.

The Phantom's voice was shaky and broken, "I gave you my music, made your song take wing, and now, how you've repaid me: denied me and betrayed me."

[How could he?]

{This was going to happen anyways, we don't deserve love, remember?}

"He was bound to love you when he heard you sing. Peter..." He fell to his knees, curling towards the ground.

The Phantom of the Opera wept.

[But, didn't Peter love us? I don't understand.]

{Love us? Ha! Like anyone would want to be near us like we are. Deformed. Hideous. A Devil's child.}

[He betrayed us.]

{We should have saw it coming. The only reason Peter ever talked to us was because he thought we were an Angel sent by his uncle.}

Harry and Peter's song rang in his ears as he grew more and more angry.

Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime, say the word and I will follow you, share each day with me each night, each morning...

The Phantom raced up the back of a statue, cape blowing behind him in the wind and roared toward the sky, "You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!"

  
  



	11. ACT 2 SCENE 10 MASQUERADE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgP&v=lxKmtXEVVPM&mode=NORMAL  
> _______________
> 
> "You will curse the day you did not do all that the Phantom asked of you!"

Steve and Tony walked into the heavily decorated ballroom with their masks on and a lady on each arm.

"Monsieur Tony!" Steve greeted.

"Monsieur Steve!" Tony replied.

"Dear Tony, what a splendid party!" Steve exclaimed, gesturing around with his free arm.

Tony nodded, "The prologue to a bright new year!"

"Quiet a night, I’m impressed!"

"Well, one does one's best," Tony handed Steve a shot glass from a nearby table.

"Here’s to us!" They cheered.

Tony raised his glass, "The toast of all the city,"

"What a pity that the Phantom can’t be here!"

They drank.

The orchestra played and the crowd sang, "Masquerade! Paper faces on parade. Masquerade; hide your face, so the world will never find you! Masquerade! Every face a different shade."

The ballroom was lined with tables, all filled to the brim with food and drink. Some people loitered around, talking, but most were dancing to the music.

"Masquerade. Look around, there's another mask behind you!"

All of the couples moved in sync, to a tune well remembered and a dance well taught.

"Flash of mauve, Splash of puce, Fool and king, Ghoul and goose, Green and black, Queen and priest, Trace of rouge, Face of beast, Take your turn, take a ride on the merry-go-round, Eye of gold, Thigh of blue, True is false, Who is who? Curl of lip, Swirl of gown, Ace of hearts, Face of clown, Faces!"

They broke off into small groups, each making a line. The couple at the end of the line twisted and twirled their way to the front of the line. Then the next duo went.

"Drink it in, drink it up, till you've drowned in the light, in the sound!"

Everyone not dancing raised their drink.

"Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds. Masquerade! Take your fill - let the spectacle astound you! Masquerade!"

Merry laughter rang around, the sound feet hitting the floor resounded.

"Burning glances, turning heads. Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you! Masquerade! Seething shadows, breathing lies..."

The stage hands snuck about, stealing wine and fancy white bread.

"Masquerade! You can fool any friend who ever knew you! Masquerade! Leering satyrs, peering eyes... Masquerade! Run and hide - but a face will still pursue you!"

"What a night!" sighed Madame Watson as she walked in with her daughter, Gwen.

"What a crowd!" Gwen yelled, laughing.

Tony leaned over to them, "Makes you glad!"

"Makes you proud! All the crème de la crème!"

Flash waltzed in, Elizabeth on his arm, both in gaudy masks and white gloves, "Watching us watching them!"

Gwen was handed a drink, that Madame Watson promptly grabbed from her, "And all our fears are in the past!"

"Three months..." Tony smiled.

"Of relief!" added Liz.

Flash giggled, .Of delight!.

"Of Elysian peace!"

Madame Watson downed the drink, "And we can breathe at last!"

"No more notes!" shouted Flash as Elizabeth yelled, "No more ghosts!"

The couple got swept up into the crowd, dancing away.

Madame Watson grabbed yet another drink from her daughter, "Here's to health!"

Tony laughed at the exchange, "Here's a toast to a prosperous year!"

Steve lifted his glass to that, "To our friends who are here!.

"And may its splendor never fade!"

"Three months!"

"What a joy!"

"What a change!"

"What a blessed release!"

Madame Watson grabbed Gwen's hand and spun her away, "And what a masquerade!"  
____________

Harry wrapped the necklace around Peter's neck.

It held a ring.

"Think of it! A secret engagement. Look, you'll be my future bride! Just think of it!" Harry sounded excited.

"Harry, no. I-I can't marry you."

"But why can you not? What have we to hide? You promised me."

Harry pressed his mouth to Peter's.

"No Harry, please don't, they'll see. And I have promised you nothing," Peter pleaded, cringing away.

"Well, then, let them see. It's an engagement, not a crime" he sighed, "Peter, what are you afraid of?"

"Let's not argue. It's not you, it's me. You will understand in time!"

I love someone else Harry, I'm sorry, but-

Peter was afraid to say. That the person he loved had killed a man. That the Phantom would kill again.

"I can only hope that I understand in time!" Harry threw his hands up.   
______________

Masked people of all shapes and sizes weaves about each other, forming an elaborate and beautiful dance.

_Masquerade! Paper faces on parade. Masquerade; hide your face, so the world will never find you! Masquerade!_

The girls twirled around the partner they had come with, sinning into the arms of someone else. The new person French dipped her, then spun her back to where she had originally came.

_Every face a different shade. Masquerade. Look around, there's another mask behind you! Masquerade! Burning glances, turning heads._

They waltzed around, one set of hands around the other's waist, while the others rested on shoulders. Skirts bloomed out and jewelry glittered under the beautiful chandler light.

_Masquerade! Stop and stare at the sea of smiles around you! Masquerade! Grinning yellows, spinning reds._

Laugher and joy spread around the room and Peter smiled, jumping and dancing with everyone.

_Masquerade! Take your fill - let the spectacle astound you!_

The doors to the second story of the Opera Populaire banged open and the Phantom appeared.

Everything went quiet.

He made his way down the grand staircase, wearing all bright red, his mask dark maroon, covering his whole face, "Why so silent, good monsieurs?" he asked.

The Opera Ghost bit out a dark chuckle, "Did you think that I had left you for good? Have you missed me, good monsieurs? I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score – "Deadpool Triumphant"!

  
  



	12. ACT 2 SCENE 11 FLASHBACK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's the same url as last chapter.  
> _____________
> 
> "I have written you an opera! Here I bring the finished score – 'Deadpool Triumphant'!"

The Phantom held up his play, looking around wildly and waving it around, "Fondest greetings to you all. A few instructions now before rehearsals start."

  
He swept his arm out grandly, then pointed at the leading Soprano, "Flash must be taught to act, not his normal trick of strutting 'round the stage."  
  
Flash gasped in outrage.   
  
The Phantom then pointed at Liz Allen, "Our Don Juan must lose some weight; it's not healthy in a woman of Elizabeth's age."  
  
Liz hugged her middle and looked down in embarrassment.   
  
"And my managers must learn that their place is in an office! Not the arts," he walked down a coupled of steps, "As for our star, Mr. Peter Parker..."  
  
The Opera Ghost stared down at Peter for a moment, then started to descend further down the stairs, "No doubt he'll do his best. It's true his voice is good; he knows, though, should he wish to excel, he has much still to learn, if pride will let his return to me, his teacher... his teacher..."  
  
They locked eyes, Peter trying to convey his feelings through his gaze.   
  
_Phantom don't! You've misunderstood, I've never left you, teacher!_   
  
He strode to Peter, taking his time to pronounce dramatics. Then, he noticed the engagement ring Harry made Peter wear.   
  
His vision went red, ripping the necklace off.  
  
"Your chains are still mine! You belong to me!"  
  
The Phantom disappeared in a cloud of fire.   
  
Harry, who had been shock still rushed into action, running and jumping down the opening in the ground the Ghost had disappeared in.   
  
He found himself in a room full of spinning mirrors.  
  
The Phantom appeared and disappeared in the reflections, laughing mirthlessly, teasing Harry.   
  
Harry slashed at the mirrors, trying to hit him with his sword, growling in frustration.  
  
Madame Watson appeared out of nowhere, grabbing Harry's arm and pulling him out of the room, into a hallway.   
  
Harry dug his heels into the ground and forced her to stop, "Madame Watson, wait."  
  
"Please monsieur, I know no more than anyone else," Mary Jane tired to keep moving.   
  
"That’s not true!" Harry yelled roughly.  
  
Madame Watson halted and turned, "Monsieur, don’t ask. There have been too many accidents."  
  
"Accidents? Please, Madame, for all our sakes," Harry asked incredulously.  
  
She took a shaky breath, "Very well. It was years ago. There was a traveling fair in the city. Gypsies. I was very young, studying to be a ballerina. One of many, living in the dormitories of the Opera House."  
______________  
  
Mary Jane Watson walked through the fair with her friends. They staid huddled together, whispering excitedly as the saw the exhibits. One lady, bent her legs above her head in an unnatural way and a man stretched his skin in an inhuman way.   
  
One Gypsy beckoned the small group, "See the wonder from the East!" he said, wagging his fingers.  
  
"Come. Come." He nudged them towards a tent, "Come inside. Come and see the devil's child!"  
  
Their group walked into tent, looking around. Eyes finally settled on a young boy huddled in a cage with a sack thrown over his face. It was a hideous sack, with an ugly face painted over it in once bright paint. The gypsy yanks bag away from boys’ face, looking over at what the boy was doing.   
  
He was making something.  
  
Mary Jane struggled to the front, to see what it was.   
  
It was a little stuffed monkey with a set of symbols, sitting on a crude wooden box.   
  
The man ripped the box out of his hands and threw it at one of the bars of the cage.  
  
It crashed to the ground, broken.   
  
The man began to beat the boy with a stick; the group laughing and throwing money and bits of food into the cage.   
  
Mary Jane watched with pained expression on her face.   
  
The groups left, Mary Jane past a glance over her shoulder just in time to see the boy slip a noose of the gypsy's neck.   
  
The boy strangled him.   
  
Thinking fast, she grabbed the boy’s hand, running out of the tent through a back door. There was a scream behind them and footsteps began pounding after them.   
  
Mary Jane veered right and lead the boy to a lower entrance of the Opera Populaire, pushed him inside, closed the door and took off in a different direction.   
_____________  
  
Madame Watson blinked out of the past, "I hid him from the world and its cruelties. He has known of nothing else of life since then except this Opera House. It was his playground and now his artistic domain," Madame Watson looked more and more desperate, "He's a genius. He's an architect, and designer, he’s a composer and a magician! A genius, monsieur!"  
  
"But clearly, Madam Watson, genius has turned to madness."  
  
  
  



	13. ACT 2 SCENE 12 UNCLE'S GRAVE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here ends act 2.   
> __________  
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgR&v=ZOhWX0UIUWs&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgS&v=kFnpbUNDV0Q&mode=NORMAL  
> ______________
> 
> "But clearly, Madam Watson, genius has turned to madness."

Peter woke in a cold sweat, his heart racing. Earlier, he had planned to go to his uncle's grave before he fell asleep.   
  
He quickly slipped out of bed and out the door, careful not to wake Harry, who was sleeping outside his door.  
  
He was 'keeping guard'.  
  
Peter snuck outside, where he flagged down a passing coachman.   
  
He pulled in the reigns, slowing, "Where to, Monsieur?" he asked.   
  
Peter hid further into the cloak he was wearing, "The cemetery," he said, before turning and moving back into the Opera to grab money for the coachman.  
_____________________  
  
[This is such a bad idea.]  
  
{Are you kidding? It's great!}  
  
"Shut up," barked the Opera Ghost.   
  
The coachman was getting ready when the Phantom walked up behind him. He knocked the man out and dragged his body to the side. Carefully, the Ghost hopped onto the top of the coach, replacing the man.   
  
Peter returned, noticing nothing.   
  
"To my Uncle’s grave, please," he said, climbing in.   
  
Peter huddled in the back of the coach, mind wandering as he stared at the passing scenery.   
  
_In sleep, he sang to me. In dreams, he came. That voice which calls to me and speaks my name..._  
________________  
  
 _No. No, no!_ Harry was up in a flash. Something was wrong, he could tell.   
  
Harry pushed open Peter's door, finding him gone.   
  
He hurried out of the Opera, rushing to the stables. Harry leaped onto a random horse and rode off to find Peter.  
_______________  
  
Peter slipped out of the coach, boots sinking into the soft snow. He looked around, view semi-clouded by the foggy graveyard.   
  
The atmosphere of the area was dark and dreary, reeking of grief and death.    
  
Peter whispered in an attempt to calm himself down, "Puny Petey thought of everything and nothing. His uncle promised him that he would send him the Angel of Music. "  
  
He took a ragged breath, nearing his uncle's massive gravestone, "His uncle promised him... His uncle promised him..."  
  
"You were once my one companion, you were all that mattered, You were once a friend and uncle then my world was shattered..."  
  
Peter kneeled I front of the grave, tracing the etched words.   
  
"Wishing you were somehow here again, wishing you were somehow near. Sometimes it seemed, if I just dreamed, somehow you would be here, wishing I could hear your voice again, knowing that I never would. Dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could."  
  
Tears rolled down his cheeks, unbidden.   
  
"Passing bells and sculpted angels, cold and monumental seem for you the wrong companions. You were warm and gentle. Too many years fighting back tears. Why can’t the past just die?"  
  
He thought about all of the stories his uncle used to tell him, all of the memories they shared.   
  
"Wishing you were somehow here again, knowing we must say goodbye. Try to forgive, teach me to live, give me the strength to try! No more memories, no more silent tears, no more gazing across the wasted years. Help me say goodbye."  
  
 _Help me say goodbye._  
  
A voice resounded from his uncle's grave, "Wandering child, so lost, so helpless, yearning for my guidance."  
  
Peter started forwards, "Angel or uncle? Friend of phantom? Who is it there staring?"  
  
He could heard the smirk in his Phantom's voice, "Have you forgotten your Angel?"  
  
"Angel, oh speak, what endless longings, echo in this whisper?"  
  
The Phantom sang, "Too long you've wandered in winter, far from my fathering gaze."  
  
"Wildly my mind beats against you..."  
  
"You resist..." he said softly, "Yet your soul obeys."  
  
Peter sighed, "Angel of Music, I denied you."  
  
"You denied me," he agreed, "Turning from true beauty!"  
  
"Angel of Music, do not shun me."  
  
"Come to me," the Opera Ghost beckoned.   
  
"Strange Angel!" Peter smiled fondly.   
  
"I am your Angel of Music..."  
  
Peter, in a trancelike state slowly approached his uncle’s tomb.   
  
The Phantom cooed, "Come to me, Angel of Music..."  
  
"No! Peter, wait!" Harry ran towards him, a horse standing further back.  
  
Peter turned, wide eyed, "Harry!"   
  
He stood, panting from running, "Whatever you believe, this man - this thing - is not your uncle!"  
  



	14. ACT 3 SCENE 13 DEADPOOL TRIUMPHANT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that I only have four more chapters to go~!  
> _____________  
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgU&v=F4Wnm4vgTfE&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgV&v=06UvaYsUyrY&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgW&v=xgFTvLw_nJo&mode=NORMAL  
> ____________
> 
> "Whatever you believe, this man - this thing - is not your uncle!"

The Phantom suddenly appeared and attacked Harry, swords clanging. Harry barely had time to raise his sword up again, the Phantom rapidly moving.   
  
He nicked Harry's arm and Peter gasped, watching rather helplessly.   
  
The two men battled around the graveyard, Harry slowly gaining a concerning advantage. Harry kicks the feet out from under the Ghost, making him fall down into the melty snow.   
  
Harry stood above him, ready to finish him off.  
  
"No Harry! No, not like this..."  
  
He stepped away from the Phantom. Grabbing Peter's hand roughly, Harry yanked him back to his horse. He forced Peter up onto it before jumping on behind him.   
  
"Giddup," he said, clicking in his heals.   
  
Peter looked over his shoulder at the Opera Ghost, staring as he slowly got smaller and further away.   
  
The Phantom got up and watched them leave, his expression murderous, "Now, let it be war upon you both!"  
  
_________________  
  
"We have all been blind, and yet the answer is staring us in the face! This could be the chance to ensnare our clever friend."  
  
Harry had asked for the council of Steve and Tony the second he got back to the Opera.  
  
Steve stepped closer, "We’re listening!"  
  
"Go on!"  
  
Harry waved them closer with his hand and lowered his voice, "We... shall play his game, perform his work but remember we hold the ace! For if Mr. Parker sings, he is certain to attend."  
  
Tony reassured, "We are certain the doors are barred!"  
  
"We are certain the police are there!" affirmed Steve.   
  
Harry nodded, "We are certain they’re armed!"  
  
"The curtain falls... his reign will end!"  
__________________  
  
Peter had dragged Harry to his secret candle room. Sitting them both down on a step near his uncle's candle.   
  
"Harry, I’m frightened," Peter was close to crying, "Don’t make me do this. It scares me. Don’t put me through this ordeal by fire. He’ll hurt someone, I know... We’ll be parted forever. I'll never see him again. What I have seen in nightmares, I do dread. If we find him, they won't ever stop. Until he's dead."  
  
 _They'll take him away from me._   
  
Peter's voice lowered, "But he'll always be there, singing songs in my head... He'll always be there, singing songs in my head..."  
  
Harry completely misunderstood him, and said softly, laying his hand on top of Peter's, "You said yourself, he was nothing but a man. Yet while he lives, he will haunt us 'til we're dead."  
  
"Twisted every way, what answer can I give? Am I to risk my life for the chance for him to live? Can I betray the man who I've come to love? Do I let him become prey? Do I have any choice? He kills without a thought, he murders all that's good. I know I can't refuse, and yet, I wish I could. Oh God, if I agree, what horrors, what pleasures wait for me in this, the Phantom’s Opera?"  
  
Harry hugged Peter to his chest, "Peter, Peter, don't think that I don't care, but every hope and every prayer rests on you now."  
_____________  
  
The Phantom lightly ran his fingers around the red rose in his hands.   
  
He mumbled to himself, "Seal my fate tonight. I hate to have to cut the fun short, but the joke's wearing thin. Let the audience in-"  
  
He lit a match.  
  
"Let my opera begin!"  
  
He dropped the rose on the ground, then the match, watching them burn together.   
  
________________  
  
Deadpool Triumphant was a horrific play.    
  
The background was blood red and the costumes were torn and tight.  
  
"Here the sire may serve the dam, here the master takes his meat! Here the sacrificial lamb, utters one despairing bleat!" The chorus members sang, moving about, slow and sluggish.   
  
Flash joined into the song, "Poor young maiden! For the thrill on your tongue of stolen sweets, you will have to pay the bill -tangled in the winding sheets! Serve the meal and serve the maid! Serve the master so that, when tables, plans and maids are laid, Deadpool triumphs once again!"  
  
Elizabeth, as Deadpool, walked out from behind the giant golden arch that had been built for the play, "Passarino, faithful friend, once again recite the plan!"  
  
Passarino was a little, sniveling man with sweat stains and yellow teeth, "Your young guest believes I'm you - I, the master, you, the man."  
  
Liz gave a hearty chuckle, "When you met, you wore my cloak, he could not have seen your face. He believes he dines with me, in his master's borrowed place! Furtively, we'll scoff and quaff, stealing what, in truth, is mine. When it's late and modesty starts to mellow with the wine..."  
  
"You come home! I use your voice - slam the door like crack of doom!" he supplied in help to his master.   
  
"I shall say: 'come - hide with me! Where, oh, where? Of course - my room!'" Elizabeth plotted.   
  
Passarino smirked, "Poor thing hasn't got a chance!"  
  
"Here's my hat, my cloak and sword. Conquest is assured, if I do not forget myself and laugh!"  
  
Laughing broadly, Liz walked backstage. The Phantom fell upon her and the ‘magic lasso’ was quickly wrapped around her neck.   
  
Peter wore a short tunic, it barely passed his knees and was cinched at the waist, "No thoughts within his head, but thoughts of joy. No dreams within his heart, but dreams of love!"  
  
He was hardly acting.   
  
Passarino whispered, "Master?"  
  
The Phantom emerged from the back curtains, disguised as Deadpool.   
  
The person playing Passarino stared at him, startled.  
  
The Phantom smiled at him and softly sang, "Passarino - go away, for the trap is set and waits for its prey..."  
  
  
  
  



	15. ACT 3 SCENE 14 PAST THE POINT OF NO RETURN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgX&v=iS525scGbHg&mode=NORMAL
> 
> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgY&v=4MomeCr9LUs&mode=NORMAL  
> ______________
> 
> "Passarino - go away, for the trap is set and waits for its prey..."

Peter knelt to the grown, picking up a fallen rose, near a basket that was filled with them. 

The Phantom slowly approached him, "You have come here, in pursuit of your deepest urge. In pursuit of that wish which 'til now has been silent..."

Peter whipped around the second he heard that voice, his basket of roses completely forgotten. Even with the mask and the costume, he knew. 

It was his Angel.

"Silent..." Opera Ghost put a finger to his lips, knowing that Peter recognized him, "I have brought you, that our passions may fuse and merge. In your mind you've already succumbed to me. Dropped all defenses, completely succumbed to me. Now you are here with me. No second thoughts. You've decided..."

"Decided..." He whispered as Peter threw him a pleading look. 

"Past the point of no return. No backward glances, Our games of make-believe are at an end."

The ballet of men in black outfits slowly danced around.

"Past all thought of if or when, No use resisting, abandon thought and let the dream descend! What raging fire shall flood the soul?" 

Peter stumbled to his feet. 

"What rich desires unlock its door? What sweet seductions lie before us? Past the point of no return. The final threshold," the Phantom slowly circled him.

"What warm unspoken secrets will we learn beyond the point of no return?" He snapped to Peter, one arm going around his waist and the other trailing down his face. 

He slowly released him, dragging his hand down Peter's arm. The younger boy backed away, shaking slightly. 

Peter shook his head and looked at the audience, "You have brought me to that moment where words run dry, to that moment where speech disappears into silence..."

He nodded at Harry, who was sitting in box five, "Silence... I have come here, hardly knowing the reason why, In my mind, I've already imagined our bodies entwining, defenseless and silent."

Peter let one of his sleeves fall past his shoulder, "And now I am here with you. No second thoughts. I’ve decided..."

He turned back to the Phantom, "Decided... Past the point of no return, no going back now. Our passion play has now at last begun."

The ballet grew more intense, some girls coming on stage as well. Movements limited, mainly using their arms. 

"Past all thought of right or wrong. One final question: how long should we two wait before we're one? When will the blood begin to race? The sleeping bud burst into bloom? When will the flames at last, consume us?" 

The Phantom twirled off his cape, "Past the point of no return," they sang together. 

They walked towards one another, "The final threshold!"

Reaching each other at last, the Phantom's hands went back to Peter's waist, "The bridge is crossed, so stand and watch it burn!" He spun Peter around, "We've passed the point of no return."

The ballet partners copied their motions. 

From the crowd Harry's eyes filled with shocked tears.

The Phantom held Peter, "Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime. Lead me, save me from my solitude. Say you'll want me with you here beside you."

He turned Peter to face him, "Anywhere you go, let me go too. Peter, that's all I ask of..."

"I'm sorry," Peter whispered, suddenly pulling off his mask, exposing his face to the Opera. 

The audience shrieked at the hideous state of his scarred face. 

Phantom stared numbly at Peter for a moment, scarcely believing he'd do that. 

Guards rushed from their posts. 

The Opera Ghost reached out and cut the rope holding chandelier. 

It tipped as people panicked, a chain pulling loose and ripping through the ceiling. 

There was mass chaos as everyone ran, screaming.

The Phantom grabbed Peter and they both fell from the stage through a trap door, leading to underneath the stage. 

The Opera Populaire caught fire, the candles from the chandler burning. 

"Go!" screamed the Maestro.

Flash went backstage in a hurry, only to find his dead wife, "Lizzy, my love!" he wailed.

_____________

"Oh my God!" cried Tony. 

"We're ruined, Tony - ruined!"

_______________

Harry rushed to Madame Watson, "Where did he take her?" he demanded. 

Madame Watson looked disheveled, "Come with me, monsieur! I will take you to him! But remember, keep your hand at the level of your eyes!"

Gwen grabbed her mother's arm, "I’ll come with you!"

"No Gwen, no you must stay here!"

She shook Gwen loose then nodded to Harry, "Come with me, monsieur, come with me!"

"No!" yelled Gwen. 

__________________

The Phantom held a torched in one hand and a struggling Peter in the other, dragging him down, "Down once more to the dungeon of my black despair! Down we plunge to the prison of my mind! Down that path into darkness deep as Hell!"

He turned on Peter, "Why, you ask, was I bound and chained in this cold and dismal place? Not for any mortal sin, but the wickedness of my abhorrent face!"

The final score of Deadpool Triumphant burned, "Track down this murderer, he must be found! Track down this murderer, he must be found!"

Peter was basically picked up by the Phantom, "Hounded out by everyone! Met with hatred everywhere! No kind word from anyone! No compassion anywhere!"

"Peter! Why? Why?!" he cried to Peter, shaking him.

______________

Madame Watson warned, "Your hand at the level of your eyes!"

"At the level of your eyes!" Harry echoed. 

'At the level of your eyes...'

She stopped at the top of a flight of stairs, "This is as far as I dare go."

"Thank you."

________________

"Have you gorged yourself at last, in your lust for blood? Am I now to be prey to your lust for flesh?" Peter asked bitterly, now dressed in the outfit that had been made by his Angel. 

An outfit for their wedding. 

The Phantom reached out and Peter turned away, "That fate which condemns me to wallow in blood has also denied me the joys of the flesh."

He placed the veil on top of Peter's soft curls, "...This face; the infection which poisons our love."

"This face which earned a mother's fear and loathing, a mask: my first unfeeling scrap of clothing. Pity comes too late, turn around and face your fate, an eternity of this before your eyes!" the Phantom stared down into Peter's soul. 

Peter trailed his hand down the Ghost's cheek, "This haunted face holds no horror for me now. It's in your soul that the true sadness lies. Oh, how I wish to help you. To let you know the love I hold. The love I hold for your dark face."

He shook his head and pulled down the veil, throwing it to the ground. 

 


	16. ACT 3 SCENE 15 NOT MY ANGEL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgY&v=4MomeCr9LUs&mode=NORMAL  
> ____________
> 
> "Oh, how I wish to help you. To let you know the love I hold. The love I hold for your dark face."

The Phantom looked towards the barred end of the lake, "Wait! I think my dear, we have a guest."

"Harry!" Peter gasped. 

"This is indeed an unparalleled delight. I had rather hoped that you would come. And now, my wish comes true, you have joined and made my night," the Ghost smirked. 

He drew Peter to his side, one arm wrapped protectively around him. 

Peter struggled, "Let me go!" he pleaded, the arm crushed into his side, making breathing hard. 

Harry shoved his hands beseechingly through the iron bars of the gate, "Free him! Do what you like only free him! Have you no pity?"

The Phantom looked down at Peter and mocked, "Your lover makes a passionate plea!"

Peter shook his head, tired of not being listened to. "No Phantom, he's not... Please Harry it's useless."

"I love him! Does that mean nothing? I love him! Show some compassion!" Harry rattled the door, trying to get through. 

The Phantom's eyes gleamed in madness, "The world showed no compassion to me!"

"Peter, Peter, let me see him," Harry begged.

"Be my guest, sir," the Opera Ghost pulled a lever that opened the gate.

The Phantom gestured around, letting Peter go, "Monsieur, I bid you welcome. Did you think that I would harm him? Why would I make him pay for the sins which are yours?"

He waded through the water, dragging a long rope with him, advancing on Harry. The Phantom trapped Harry against the gate, putting the rope around his neck and pulling tight. 

The Phantom taunted as he worked, "Order your fine horses now! Raise up your hand to the level of your eyes! Nothing can save you now - except perhaps..."

He turned to look at the boy who was still standing on dry land, "...Peter."

"Start a new life with me - buy his freedom with your love! Refuse me, and you send your lover to his death! This is the choice! This is the point of no return!"

Peter looked stunned. 

_His Angel._

_He couldn't be this ruthless and cruel, could he?_

_Not his Angel._

_If this was not his Angel, who was this man?_

"...The tears I might have shed for your dark fate, grow cold and turn to tears of hate!" Peter spat.

Harry's voice was hoarse, "Peter, forgive me, please forgive me. I did it all for you and all for nothing!"

Peter glared at the man he loved, "Farewell, my fallen idol and false friend. We had such hopes, and now those hopes are shattered!"

The Phantom laughed, "Too late for turning back, too late for prayers and useless pity!"

"I never pitied you!" 

"Say you love him, and my life is over!" Harry struggled from his bonds, soaking wet. 

"All hope of cries for help; no point in fighting!" said the Opera Ghost. 

"For either way you choose, he has to win!" Harry said with all of the hatred he could muster. 

"You cannot win!" The Ghost laughed, "So do you end your days with me or do you send him to his grave?"

Harry groaned angrily, "Why make her lie to you to save me?"

Peter's eyes filled with tears, "Angel of Music..."

"Past the point of no return," he repeated. 

"For pity's sake, Peter, say no!" Harry yelled, exasperated. 

"...who deserves this?" Peter whispered. 

_Not me. Not him._

The Phantom said, "...the final threshold..."

"Don't throw your life away for my sake!" Harry pleaded.

"When will you see reason...?" Peter questioned, _when will you see that I really do love you?_

The Phantom sneered, "His life is now the prize which you must earn!"

"I fought so hard to free you..." Harry muttered dejectedly. 

"Angel of music..."

"You've past the point of no return."

Peter shook his head again, trying to clear his thoughts. "...You deceived me," he backed up farther and wrapped his arms around himself. 

Peter blinked, "I gave you my heart blindly."

The Phantom hacked out another demented laugh, "Heart? Ha! You try my patience. Make your choice!"

He tightened the noose around Harry's neck. 

Peter slowly approached the Phantom, moving into the water. "Beautiful creature of darkness, what kind of life have you known? God give me courage to show you, you are not alone."

Peter stood on his tiptoes and pressed his lips to his Angel's. 

The Opera Ghost pulled back and stared at Peter, emotions unreadable. 

They kissed again.

"Track down this murderer, he must be found!" voices echoed around the tunnels.

The Phantom whipped around to face Harry, "Take him, forget me, forget all of this!"

"Hunt out this animal, who runs to the underground! Too long he's preyed on us - but now we know..." they chanted, torches gleaming. 

The Phantom looked panicked, "Leave me alone, forget all you've seen! Go now, don't let them find you. Take the boat, swear to me never to tell the secrets you know, of the Angel in Hell!" He pushed Peter towards Harry.

"The Phantom of the Opera is there deep down below!"

"Peter!" he yelled, causing the boy who had been untying Harry to pause, "I'm Wade! I'm not an Opera Ghost, a Phantom or anything thing like that. I'm definitely no Angel. Peter, I'm Deadpool!"

"The Phantom of the Opera!" 

"GO NOW! GO NOW AND LEAVE ME!" the Phantom backed out of the water and walked back to his room, shoulder's slumped. 

He sat down next to his music box and wound it up.

Music box began its soft melody and the Phantom watched it dully.

"Masquerade... paper faces on parade. Masquerade... hide your face, so the world will never find you..." he sang brokenly you with the tune. 

 

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crying, you're crying.


	17. ACT 3 SCENE 16 ITS OVER NOW

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgY&v=4MomeCr9LUs&mode=NORMAL  
> _______________
> 
> "Masquerade... paper faces on parade. Masquerade... hide your face, so the world will never find you..."

 

 

Peter stood near Harry, biting his lip. He turned on his heal and walked back torwards the Ghost.

Wade Wilson looked up, heartbroken "Peter, I love you..."

He walked over to the Phantom, slowly. As one would approach a feral dog. Peter grabbed his hand and slipped the ring into it. 

"Oh, dear Angel. I love you too."

Peter turned back and walked back over to Harry.

The Phantom of the Opera sprang to his feet, watching his only love go.

Without him.

Harry stood, rowing the boat, while Peter sat, not once looking back.

"Say you'll share with me, one love, one lifetime..." he sang, but not to Harry.

"Say the word and I will follow you..." Harry returned.

_Share each day with me each night, each morning..._

The Opera Ghost then sang, "You alone can make my song take flight. It's over now, the Music of the Night!" 

He picked up a empty candle holder and smashed it against one mirror. Then the next. And finally the one way glass mirror that lead to a tunnel he had built years ago. 

He walked out through it, tears falling. 

____________

Gwen hurried into the hidden room, still dressed in her Deadpool Triumphant costume. She was panting slightly from running. 

As she slowed her run, something caught her eye. A strange, haunted looking monkey sat perched on a box, it's tune not quite over. 

Several men followed after her, looking for the murderer. 

There lying on a chair, a mask.

Gwen picked it up, rubbing her hands across the smooth, white marble surface.

_It's over now, the Music of the Night._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...


	18. THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://m.youtube.com/#/watch?list=PL179C49A57660DF57&params=OAFIAVgZ&v=QJn54TRZrXE&mode=NORMAL

Harry looked down. There was already something on that large, lonesome gravestone. A single rose, tied with a black ribbon. That wasn't what the old Vicomte was focused on though. There, lying upon the desolate flower was Peter's ring.

_Child of the wilderness_   
_Born into emptiness_   
_Learn to be lonely_   
_Learn to find your way in darkness_

_Who will be there for you_   
_Comfort and care for you_   
_Learn to be lonely_   
_Learn to be your one companion_

_Never dreamed out in the world_   
_There are arms to hold you_   
_You've always known your heart was on its own_

_So laugh in your loneliness_   
_Child of the wilderness_   
_Learn to be lonely_   
_Learn how to love life that is lived alone_

_______________

"Fucking hell!" Wade yelled, jerking forward.

Peter, who was sleeping next to him groaned loudly, tightening his grip and digging his face into Wade's shoulder.

Wade stared down at him and attempted to calm his ragged breath.

"Baby Boy," he sighed. "I just had the worst dream."

"Wha?" Peter mumbled, slightly opening his eyes. "I told you to quit eating before you went to bed."

"I didn't! It was about that movie you made me watch! You left me, for Harry! And you could sing! Can you sing? I've never asked you to sing for me. I can't believe I've never asked you out on a karaoke date. You should sing for me sometime. Who knows, maybe I can teach you somethings."

"Wade? Are you crying?" Peter asked, voice hoarse from sleep. "What's the matter?"

"I'm not crying!" Wade sighed again. "Baby Boy, I don't think I could learn to be lonely."

"What?" Peter sat up, then sluggishly said, "You don't have to."

He leaned forward, cupping Wade's face with his hands.

"Say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime," Peter sang softly, some of his words slurred together, wiping the tears from Wade's eyes with his thumbs. "Say the word and I will follow you..."

_Share each day with me, each night, each morning._   
_Say you love me ..._

"You know I do," Wade chuckled lightly, wrapping his hands around Peter's. "Love me, that's all I ask of you..."

_Love me, that's all I ask of you._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.


End file.
